


Lights Go Down

by AeeDee



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Canon Related, Dark, Drabble, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:58:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5676964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeeDee/pseuds/AeeDee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wanted to get inside Kylo Ren's mind, even if only for a few minutes. Short and to the point; the sort of thing you write at 2am on a Friday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lights Go Down

**Author's Note:**

> This is from his perspective. We all have a lot of different opinions, but I tried to consider how he'd view himself, since he's not the villain in his own story.

There is a hole in his chest where the heart used to be. But he is stronger, now. Lighter, with less weight.

Memories tugging at the edge of his mind like visions from a dream, but the shadows eat the light and the pain sours the happiness. It wasn’t ever all it’s cracked up to be. None of it was. His home, his family, his training. Abandoned by one familiar, kind face after another when they’d turn away. 

I’m not a difficult child, he recalls screaming, as early as seven years old. And the hand that shoved him back against the wall. But it recoiled back, for that man was afraid of his own strength. His voice attempting to soften the blow - Show some respect. Respect for what? Just show it, alright. I’m still your father. But what did that word mean. He only liked to use it when he needed the authority.

I’m not the difficult one. He’s always been alone. Even when there were warm arms around his shoulders, and a voice speaking softly in his ear he never had a friend that lived in his own world. He knows she loved him. She did, in her own way. But she spoke a language he couldn’t understand, and she wasn’t willing to wait for him to learn it. 

He’s been alone for a long time, now. He used to look for substance, for communion in other people’s faces and it was only a game of shadows; their voices distorted noise. He continued to speak those words they didn’t understand, he answered their questions wrong and when he found himself staring into that abyss of colors he started to wonder if he could somehow take it all back, if he could subdue his senses and instead drift aimlessly into a silent peace. If only he could find it somewhere.

His heart began to ache. A small ache, at first, that grew and split until it became a chronic injury. He didn’t want to lose it, but it became so painful he had to cut it out. It wasn’t just his own feelings he mourned, but the feelings of others, and the world that warped and shaped and tensed and buckled down around him. Human society as a cacophony of emotions and thoughts and signals and for the longest while, his vision fogged until nothing was clear anymore.

Everyone must find their own way to the Force. He still believes that. For each person, a unique presence of it must manifest. 

It was heavy and too thick to breathe through, at first. But he was one of the lucky ones. He found just enough steps in his path to light the way. Around the despair, the loneliness, the isolation. Between the graves and the battles and the strife. He wandered that heavy abyss, bleeding out with each step until he grew lighter than he’d ever been before, more distant and whole and complete than he’d been in such a long time.

He had to break through many barriers. The first time he failed, that man’s smile was still kind. The second, the third, the fourth. Then he began to see. He began to understand why.

He accused him of being deceptive. Of being selfish, of letting his emotions stir his insides in a way that violated his own creed. He was no honorable Jedi; he was a wounded veteran, with eyes that spoke of loss and a soul that could barely support the weight of his own promises. He was as fragile as any of them were, and nearly as lost. 

He struck him deep; again, he saw a familiar look. Familiar eyes, and a familiar voice. 

He sent him to his knees. To humble him for being too bold. Too sharp, too focused, too clever. Too brilliant. Well I am an inferno; and like the sun I will continue to burn for beyond my life.

He never had a friend in the world. Never had much use for one, so it’s no loss. People are weak. Untrustworthy. Fallible. Their vision unclear and their paths forged by selfish desire. They toy with others like pieces in a game. His life, broken down and caged to their whims. Loved ones that masked their sorrows and tragedies by scripting his future, since it was the only thing they could control. Passed from one home to another, and cast away, far across distant worlds so his mother could sleep better at night with her conscience.

They each failed him, one by one. 

The sentiment they deem love renders them confused; vulnerable. Human beings walking around with fragile strings, easily severed. Lives, precious ones so easily lost. The force is a place of emotional solitude. Isolation in the face of great terror; fear of being alive, of being loved, of being alone, none of these matter when you are one with the energy that manifests them into existence. 

The force is a place of silence. 

He carved out his heart, and ate it in pieces. It took a while. But he is… lighter. 

He carved himself free.


End file.
